I was reading a post from a fellow blogger, Mary Lee Shalvoy, and her comments moved me in a very deep and passionate way.  I will not regurgitate what she wrote, as I would highly encourage you to follow the link and read it for yourself; however, I do want to remark on what I took away from her post.  

To summarize, she was talking about adversity in our children’s lives and how perhaps her divorce from her children’s father, may in fact allow them to grow more as individuals.  The idea is that when our children are burdened with difficulties to some extent in childhood…whether it be through dealing with divorce, a death in the family, a learning disability, the list could go on and on…that the experience they gain in problem solving, conflict resolution, managing and processing feelings, etc all make them better equip to cope with life as adults.  

As many of you know, I am also divorced and carry around exceedingly large amounts of guilt because of it. After reading Mary Lee’s post, it was at the very least a refreshing thought to realize that the mistakes I make as a parent might possibly make my children stronger as adults in overcoming adversity.  Perhaps there is something good that can come from their parent’s marriage failing.  Following that thought process; I guess there are several things I hope my children learn from my divorce.  

I pray they learn that getting married too young is a mistake.  The person I was at age 21 (when I got married) is not who I was at 31 or even who I am at 33.  Your 20’s are for finding yourself…discovering who you are, what you stand for, and what you refuse to fall for.  Along with trying to process all that goes into finding yourself, comes along the need to learn how to love and accept who you are.  It is NOT the time to try and discover who your soul mate is and exert your energy into loving and accepting who they are before you even know yourself.  

I hope they learn what a loving, healthy relationship looks like rather than what it does not.  The display I demonstrated the first time around is not what they should expect from their relationships.  While marriage is difficult, constant work, it should never be as hard as it was for their father and me.  They should expect more from their spouse and more from themselves.  

 I want them to realize that disagreements are inevitable, but the way to resolve conflict is not through screaming and yelling, as was the only way I knew how to process things back then.  Withdrawing does not work either, as was the method most favored by their father.  

I want them to know that it is ok to fail.  Failing in love, work, friendships….it’s all part of life.  It’s how you come out of those relationships that really makes you stronger and wiser for having tried and failed in the first place.  Fearing failure will stunt your growth and keep you from the intimacy you deserve. 

I also want them to understand that it’s equally ok to love.  While not every relationship they start will last, they are all needed and important learning blocks because they form the person you are and bring you to the person you will someday, love forever.  I do not regret a second I spent with their dad because if I did, I would be withdrawing the time it took to receive God’s blessings…my four children.  

Which brings me to the next lesson that I pray they take away from my divorce…

The power of regret…and even more debilitating,…guilt.  They are both a waste of time.  It’s important to acknowledge the mistakes, right the wrongs if possible, ask for forgiveness when necessary, and grant grace where needed….but do not give a moment of your soul’s serenity over to guilt and regret.  They are truly two of the greatest tools the devil uses to paralyze progress.  

I’m pretty sure I could write all night long about what I hope they learn and take away from my mistakes, but overall, I wonder who among us has not learned from our own parent’s mistakes and vowed not to repeat history.

I really only pray that my children do the same.

Ok, deep dark secret time….I think I actually suffer from some sort of seasonal depression!

I have felt like a million dollars lately.  It’s been warm, sunny, and a beautiful spring.  I have walked at least 3 miles (some days more like 5-7 miles) a day for the last two weeks.  And let me tell you what a feat that is for me….I have NEVER exercised (and yes, walking for me is exercise) more than 3 days in a row.  Seriously, any time I have joined a gym, made a new year’s resolution, purchased some new workout DVD…I have never made it 4 days in a row.  I go strong for days 1, 2, and 3, and then inevitably, something comes up…or I conjure up something….to ensure I never see day 4.

Well, I have been proud to say that this spring I have changed it all.  I have been feeling great…insanely motivated to keep myself on track with my diet and exercising efforts (down 15 lbs….thank you….thank you ;o)…motivated that is until today!

Today it was cold and rainy.  Honest to God, I could barely get myself out of bed this morning.  The kids even ended up at school a couple minutes late because it took me an extra 15 minutes to drag myself out of bed to wake them all up.  Thank God the baby, Natalie, woke up crabby this morning so I was able to drive directly home after bringing  the other kids to school and climb immediately back into bed with her.  She nursed herself right to sleep for her morning nap, and I am willing to admit to the whole world that I too…joined her for a morning nap!

It’s embarrassing to admit that I actually took a nap because I normally would never do such a thing, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open this morning.  And it is definitely much more than just being tired for no apparent reason.  My entire mood was down in the dumps.  I felt downright depressed all day.  Now I know that Monday’s are never the best day of the week for me (I know it’s really Tuesday but the long weekend made it feel like Monday to me).  I also know that whenever we have a long weekend together I get sad to send the kids back to school and my husband back to work.  So, take my normal “Monday blues” issues and compound it with the gloomy, rainy, cold, dreary weather….and you’ve got yourself one nappen’ mama!

Seriously though, it truly bothers me that the weather plays such an active role in dictating my moods. It really feels as though no matter how bad I wanted to feel good today, there were these invisible forces working against me. I couldn’t fight the doom and gloom. I didn’t have the energy to fight it. After seeing such a huge transformation in my demeanor between the last few weeks and today, I am starting to wonder if I don’t have a real medical condition?! Perhaps I feel this crappy all winter long and I just don’t recognize it.

I don’t want to make a mountain out of a mole hill here, and I do understand that lots of people feel crumby when its nasty outside.  So, I really wonder if this is normal or if I might sincerely have a problem.  I mean, how many other moms do I know that actually had to go back to bed today just a mere 2 hours after they got up…I’m not so sure.  Either way, I think I need to be more in tune with the pattern between my moods and the weather and see if there might be a true correlation between the two.

On a final note….The other thing I questioned today was why in the world….if I know that this kind of weather makes me depressed….do I live in Wisconsin???  We have days like today, either with rain or snow, more months out of the year than not!

I think I need to look into relocating to Sunny California!  Just imagine all the walking I would do and weight I would lose if I had that kind of sunshine to motivate me!

P.S.  Today was not a total loss…I did walk my 3 miles this evening, albeit begrudgingly, thanks to the “gentle” prodding from a good friend.

I keep our calendars from year to year.  I have an entire bin of old calendars from the last 13 years.  I even have a couple that I kept from high school.  Back then, I would keep track of basketball games, dances, when a certain boy asked me out, or when we broke up.   The calendars now are filled with appointments, games, family get togethers, birthdays, and anniversaries.  

I do it for more of a practical application down the road than for the mere obvious sentimental reasons.  I think that it will be great to look back at them someday and have something to trigger my memories of all that we did together as a family…because quite honestly, I am afraid of forgetting most of it.  

It seems that I cannot remember from day to day where we have been, what we have done, or even what my name is anymore!  And I know these memories are too precious to forget.  So I chronicle our lives on the little squares of our calendar.  I write down what we did for someone’s birthday or when we packed a picnic and headed to the zoo.  I will write down all the milestones my daughter reached in her first year of life so when she looks back at her baby book and sees that I never made it past page 2….that I did indeed keep a record of her special moments, just not in her baby book.  I will write down how we spent this Memorial Day weekend…we planted a garden, had a cookout with friends, roasted marshmallows by the campfire, etc.  That way, when my husband says to me next year at this time, “Do you remember what we did last year for Memorial Day” (as he always finds it necessary to quiz me on previous holiday festivities, and I inevitably fail miserably)…I will be able to say, “No, I have no idea what I ate for lunch yesterday Corey, so asking me what we did a year ago is pretty pointless, don’t you think?  Why don’t you just tell me what we did because you and I both know that you know and I don’t remember?”

 However, I will be able to drum up the old calendars…and subsequent memories…. someday….someday when I am frail, old, and “officially” senile….and reminisce over days and years past.  

It seems as though I spend every day running ragged with my life and someday I will look back on this time and wonder how I managed it all…and how to get it back because I know I will miss it terribly!

I know my calendars will come in handy on those days!

Tonight I am feeling a bit downhearted.  My two oldest sons are on their way to Indiana with their dad for a basketball tournament.  My oldest daughter is at a sleep over with her friends.  That leaves me with just the youngest two…Avery and Natalie.  

Now I realize that most moms would rejoice at an evening where half of their household was absent; and I always thought I was one of those moms; however, tonight opened my eyes and my heart to a stark realization.   I am amazed at how when even one of the 5 children are gone, it truly changes the dynamics of our household.  I would be lying through my teeth if I said that it wasn’t easier to go from 5 down to 3 children, but shockingly, “easier” does not translate to “better”. 

Dinner tonight was so quiet.  I didn’t have to tell my oldest son, Bailey, to sit down while he eats.  I did not have to police his brother, Brady, in an effort to make sure he consumes some form of real nutrition.   I did not have to tell my daughter to put her phone down and stop texting at the table.  

It was very quiet and rather peaceful with just the 7 year old and the baby.  My husband and I had a very pleasant conversation.  I sat down and ate while my food was still warm.  I was not interrupted 12 times to get 8 different drinks on the table.

 And while I know in my head that I should have enjoyed this momentary glimpse at sanity, my heart ached for the chaos.  I missed hearing everyone talk over each other and my routine lecture on how they “need to show each other respect and listen to one another instead of interrupting all the time”.   I wanted to yell at my boys for burping out loud.  I even rather missed eating my dinner cold.  I mean, who knew after all these years of sitting down to cold meals that I would actually develop a pallet for stale buns and cold meat?!

 I guess what I realized is that each and every child in our home adds such life to our family.  They are all so individual… so unique… and life without them even for a day is… well….quiet in an unsettling way.  

Even tonight’s dinner without all my children present was less like the family meal that I wanted and more of the wakeup call that I needed.

Perhaps all the chaos I rant and rave about trying to alleviate in my life…is actually, what makes my house… a home!

As I was driving the kids to school this morning and discussing the crazy schedule of events we have going on tonight…an art fair at the kid’s school…soccer pictures…a soccer game…homework…dinner….my daughter, Kylie, chimes in and says, “Oh yeah, you do know my choir concert is tonight, right?

I pause briefly wondering if I should admit to having no clue or just pretend that I had it on my calendar all along.  I decide to just go with honesty this time and hope she does not take it as some personal vendetta against her existence.  I’m sure you understand how hormonal a tween can be, so I know it could go either way here.  I hold my breath as I say….

 ”Um…actually…..no, I had no idea your concert was tonight!”….and I wait to see if her head is going to start spinning around.  

 To my surprise and somewhat disbelief, she states, “That’s ok if you don’t come.  I don’t really care if you are there or not.  You can just go to Bailey’s soccer game if you want.”  A very pleasant response….I think….  although I’m not sure how to take the “I don’t really care if you are there or not” comment.  I decide to assume she meant it as a selfless gesture rather than it’s literal translation and move on to the panic that is setting in over how I am going to manage being in 3 places at the exact same time!

 For a brief moment,  my head starts spinning around, and I have a minor, but ever so acute panic attack over our schedule for this evening.  How did I not know she had a concert?  She only has two a year…how did I manage to miss it?  I make the conscious choice to lose the guilt over it and chalk it up to my early stage of senility that seems to be quite apparent these days.  I move onto the plotting and planning stages of how to cut myself into thirds.  Perhaps I can find one of those magicians that do it all the time to people up on stage and make it look so effortless…yes…that’s it…I’m going straight to the yellow pages and finding myself a magician!

 Ok…maybe not…but it really did seem like a viable option for at least a few seconds.

 So, I am now settled with the fact that I will bring my son to his pictures 15 minutes early so I can make it to the kid’s school right at 6pm when the art fair begins…perouse the isles of beautiful handmade pottery and woven baskets for exactly 22 minutes…then head over to the choir concert 30 minutes early if I actually want a seat that will allow my daughter to be visible to us….apologize to my son for needing to miss his soccer game entirely…schedule a time later in the evening to process the guilt over said soccer game absence…arrange for another parent to drop him off after the game at the concert….head home for homework, baths, books, prayers, and bedtime…and wrap up the evening with a laundry folding “party” that I’m afraid I will be the only one attending! 

 Whoo!  Sounds like a plan….I wipe my brow, pat myself on the back for coming up with such a fool proof plan, and thank God that it’s all worked out! 

Let me see…am I forgetting anything….

 DINNER!!! 

Great…I forgot to schedule food in there somewhere.  Well, I guess the kids are just going to have to enjoy a large breakfast tomorrow!  ;o)  

While I have a very strong tendency to over-analyze, psycho-analyze, and generally over-think most situations in my life, I am pleased to say that today was not one of those days.  My mind actually got a chance to rest and regroup for tomorrow’s round of stress and worry.  

Today I just relaxed…mentally speaking.  I didn’t worry about the bills I cannot pay.  I did not fret about the $0.50 left in the checking account or the $2.00 check that won’t clear tomorrow.  

Today I did not stress about what to do with my life or what I want to be when I grow up.  

Today I let myself off the hook for the wife I ought to be or the mother I am not. 

Today I allowed myself to clear my mind of all that is negative and only focused on the positive.  

Today I thanked God…aloud…for the abundance of blessings in my life.

Today I was as content and peaceful as a pipe-toting hippie, and it felt great!  

Today I walked with my daughter.  I spent time with my mother.  I enjoyed the sunshine.  I basked in the moment without a second thought given to what’s next…. 

Today was a good day….

so good….I might even try it again tomorrow!! ;o)

Life is so short…so precious.

 I received a phone call a couple of weeks ago from a dear friend.  She told me that her mom’s cancer was back and this time, it was terminal.  I paused…sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity….searching my mind for something to say…anything….any words that could possibly bring comfort to my friend….and all I came up with was, “I’m so sorry”.  

Not enough, I know…not nearly enough.

We spoke for quite a while.  I was amazed at how she tried comforting me by asking what was going on in my life.  I mean, what in the world could I possibly talk about that would not sound ridiculous and self-absorbed after hearing her news.  I’m sure that listening to me complain about having an over-booked calendar or my continuous battle over keeping up with the laundry was just what she needed, right?  After hearing about her mother, there was truly nothing I could say that didn’t seem shallow and trivial.  

She said something to me that struck me so deeply.  I will never forget her words when she said, “Sara, I prayed for the wrong thing the last time she got sick.  I prayed for just a little more time with her.  God answered my prayer.  Her cancer went into remission for 2 years before it came back.  Now I wish I would have prayed for more than just a ‘little more time’.”  

Wow!  Again, words failed me.  I felt chills down my spine.  In that moment, I felt the deepest, most sincere pain in the depths of my soul for her.  My entire body actually ached thinking about what it must feel like to wonder if what you prayed for was the right thing. ..to wonder if your prayers were actually answered, quite literally.  Well…I just cannot imagine what that feels like.  

She did say there is hope.  Her mom needs a stem cell transplant, but they have to pray they can find a donor.  I asked her how I could be tested to see if I’m a match, and it’s actually a simple blood test.  I asked her if she could be a potential match and the odds are very slim.  Her words struck me again when she said, “While I may not be a match for my mom, I cannot believe I have never even donated blood.  There could be a family out there, struggling as much as we are that I could be a match for, and I’ve never taken the time to do it.”

 She is right.  She is so right!  I too, have never even taken the time to donate blood.  What if it were my family desperately needing a donor and there were people out there who could save my mother’s life, but just didn’t take the time to be tested.  In that moment, I felt like a very small person.   

My heart is aching for her and her family.  I feel so inadequate as a friend because I am powerless.  My words and actions can do nothing to stop the inevitable pain and agony she is going through as she watches her mother pass away.   Both my husband and I are going to be tested, and you never know.  Even if we cannot be a miracle for my friend’s family, perhaps we can be the answer to someone else’s prayer.  

Again, its not enough…not nearly enough.  

 After hanging up with her, I cried.  I cried for a long time.  I hugged my children.  I told my husband how much I love him.  I called up my mother just to hear her sweet voice….and I prayed.  I prayed that while I am unable to offer true comfort to my friend in her time of need, I know that our good Lord can.  He can wrap His arms around this beautiful family and somehow see them through today and the devastating days that lie ahead.  

I ask all of you who read this to please do the same.  Consider donating blood, but if you can do nothing else…please pray.  

I read a post by a fellow blogger, badassdad05, and it sparked an interesting discussion regarding how to keep our children safe in today’s world.  As the “over protective” mother of 5 children, I cannot articulate how often this issue comes up in our home. It is nearly impossible to know where the lines are drawn between rational boundaries and irrational fears.

 Living in a small town seems to give everyone around here a sense of security that I just don’t feel.  Perhaps it was being raised for part of my childhood in Las Vegas.  Drive by shootings would be threatened on a regular basis around my Middle School.  It got to a point where they wouldn’t even evacuate us…they would just put the s.w.a.t. team on the roof of the school building and let us carry on with our day.  Kids around here ride their bikes all over town; they go to the local hang outs unsupervised, and basically have the run of the town.  I, on the other hand, do not allow my children enough room to even breathe at times so I know there must be a happy medium.  Neither extreme is healthy for our children, so I want to know where the middle ground is between being a protective parent and being an overbearing parent. 

 I have to walk that fine line between allowing them the independence they need to learn and grow into functioning adults and keeping them safe.  I struggle deeply with knowing when I’m stifling them and when I’m being appropriate in the boundaries I set.  How do you know when to give them enough room to “sow their oats” and not quite enough room to allow anybody else to “sow their oats” with my daughter?  I don’t have the answer. 

I also don’t want to raise a bunch of insecure children who are afraid of their own shadow, and yet I feel as parents we have to instill some amount of fear into their little minds.  I need them to fear strangers.  I need my 7 year old to fear wondering off at the park and getting lost.  I need them to fear the consequences of some of their actions and the actions that others of authority could impose on them.

 Yet, I want them to be confident young men and women.  I want them to be self-sufficient enough to handle a mini-crisis, appropriately.  I want them to look an adult in the eye when they speak to them and show courtesy to their elders.  It’s all such a fine line that I quite often feel overwhelmed in what messages to teach and what lessons to allow them to learn on their own.  

Regardless, the bottom line for me is pretty clear.  I know it’s not the popular vote…especially with my husband and children; however, I always come back to the same argument: Once they are gone…they’re gone…and you can never get them back!  I would rather drive my children all over God’s creation and have peace of mind knowing they arrived to their destination safely than let them ride their bike across town and risk never seeing them again. When it comes to my children, NO amount of risk is worth losing them! 

Sometimes the method to my cleaning madness even amuses me!  

Take yesterday for instance.  I swept up a pile of grass clippings, dirt, food crumbs, and rubber from a broken water balloon off my kitchen floor.  Now that Natalie is a dirt devil in motion, I sweep and vacuum at least 2-3 times a day.  But instead of just finishing the job, I swept the pile into a discreet corner of the kitchen, set the broom on the wall, walked over to the closet to get the dust pan…and got side tracked somewhere between the pile and the closet.

 To make a long story long, the pile is still sitting there!  So, today when Natalie discovered it..what did I do?  I grabbed the broom…thank God it was still leaning against the wall for easy access….and swept it into a new corner and walked away from it AGAIN!!  

As I did it, I was asking myself, “Sara, why do you shuffle the mess around like a deck of cards instead of just cleaning it once in its totality and moving on with your life?”  Unfortunately, I didn’t answer back.  

I started looking around the house and realizing that I do this allot!  I am looking at the 5 loads of laundry that are sitting on my couch right now and doing a mental tally of their relocations…so far, these same 5 loads of laundry have been stacked up in the laundry room, set in my closet, put out on my bed, and finally moved to the couch.  With the effort it has taken to shuffle them around, I could have just folded it and been done with it!

And I’m not the only crazy person in my house…oh no….nobody is getting off the hook with this posting.  My children do the same shuffling act with anything I hand them to put away.  I find the same wrapper or toy lying in a new location as if to suggest they actually dealt with it by moving it to another spot in the house.  

And my husband has adapted to this method of madness as well.  When he cleans the kitchen, he shuffles stacks of papers from counter to counter instead of just putting them where they belong!  

Therefore, I think now that I have called myself out on this, I am going to try a new lean process for handling all the stuff in my home.  I am going to attempt to touch things only once.  If I get the mail, I am going to open it, file it, respond to it…do whatever I need to do with it right then and there.  It is dealt with immediately instead of shuffled around the kitchen for a week first.  I am going to take the laundry out of the dryer, fold it, and put it away instantly rather than relocate it as if it were enlisted in the navy and being deployed to new locations every other day.  And the pile of stuff I sweep up daily off my kitchen floor, well that is going to be dealt with in short order as well.  

Wahoo…glad I got that off my chest.  I feel so relieved that I came up with such a sound plan of action.  I’ll let you know how well I maintain this new lean process.  I am really holding my breath on this one!  

Now, if you will excuse me….I need to figure out where I put my keys so I can unlock my car and get the last load of dirty dishes out of the trunk!

May 12, 2009

I received a text message today from some kid stating, “Hey, how are you?  This is Tyler.”  

I sent back, “You have the wrong number.”

He came back with, “Oh, sorry about that.”

Now I know I’m no psychic, but I had a pretty good hunch this kid was some High School boy messing around during class.  So I came back with…

“No problem.  But you really should get back to paying attention to class rather than texting.”  

His response was classic…

“Ok, I will!”  

….LOL….I could almost see the shade of white he turned, and I really wish I could find his mom and tell her what an obedient son she has!